Two Wicked Courts

Chapter 1

 "Well, Una?" Alana said as she pinched my arm, pulling me from my thoughts. "You aren't even paying attention to what I was saying, are you? Do you like this one?" She shook the dress for emphasis.

I glanced skeptically at it. "For you or for me?"

"For me, of course! This color wouldn't suit you at all." She looked down at the dress in her hands, scrutinizing it. "Well?"

"I think it's lovely, if we can afford it."

"I think we can, since you haven't been looking for one of your own, which I can only assume means you don't want a new dress, thus, I can use all the money for myself." Alana was teasing, her green eyes twinkling mischievously, only to get a rise out of me. She started pouting when it didn't work. My mind was... elsewhere. "Una, you're so ungrateful. The one time our parents give us money to buy some nice things, you don't want anything? Are you worried they can't afford it? They can! The crops have been good this year so far."

"So far," I repeated, my tone careful. Our parents were only farmers and we were not known to be very rich, so getting new dresses for the festival seemed frivolous.

"It isn't like I stole it from them! They gave it to me willingly, out of the goodness of their own hearts." She batted her eyelashes at me, something that made most villagers incapable of resisting her.

My sister was beautiful. There wasn't any doubt about it. A year younger than me, she seemed to mature faster. Her body had filled out with healthy curves while mine remained waifish. I was taller and thinner, with dark hair and sharp features that made me look perpetually cross, but Alana was approachable. Despite looking mature, she had an aura of youth and joy, with rounded cheeks, bright eyes, and thick chestnut hair. Her smile could win over anyone, her words compelled people to listen, and, as a result, people adored and loved her.

And I envied her for all of it. Sometimes, whenever she was forgiven for something I would have been punished for, or treated better than I would have been, I'd be struck with blind rage towards her that would rise in my throat like acid, an animal clawing to escape that I'd always manage to smother over and over again. Perhaps that was harsh of me, but years of witnessing and bearing the consequences of her favoring hadn't eased my resentment. Neither had her never being directly to blame. I took bruises for her and it was never her fault.

She had countless suitors, handsome ones, wealthy ones, kind ones, intelligent ones, ones that offered to take her into the cities and away from our unknown, remote village. One night when Alana was asleep in her bed at the other side of our room, I had overheard my parents talking about the offers with excitement. They had seemed to favor the wealthier men, the ones who were older, crueler, and other generally repulsive things.

I feared at least that for her, but late at night, nursing the bruises and the echoes of our parents' harsh words ringing in my ears, I wished she would be taken away, and I would try to smother those wishes immediately, because my grandmother had drilled into me the repercussions of wishes when it came to the Fae, and despite my jealousy and insecurity when it came to Alana, I would never wish her taken by the Fae.

Her future would be in a far away city, happy wife to a wealthy merchant, with beautiful children and want for nothing. In comparison, my future seemed stagnant. Despite being the elder sister, I was known as Alana's sister, always in her shadow. Marriage proposals were few and far between, mostly completely unacceptable elderly men that even my parents refused. So far, that had been a small blessing.

I pushed those thoughts away and rolled my eyes at her. "Yes, not because you only needled them for two months about the solstice festival and how," I started to use her very words, "it would be unacceptable and downright cruel to leave their daughters without new dresses."